Sweet Lullabies
by TricksyHobbitses
Summary: When 18 year old Emily Sullivan travels on the Titanic, everyone assumes that she is the wealthy companion of the equally wealthy Madam Mason. She does nothing to dissuade these assumptions, until she meets one Tommy Ryan. -Almost 4000 hits! Thanks guys!-
1. Unexpected Invitations

The streets of Southampton were crowded as Emily pushed her way through back to the St. Francis Home for Misplaced Children. The basket over her arm was laden with carrots, celery, and lettuce, for it was her turn to go to market, something that she had looked forward to all month, as it meant getting out of that accursed building for a day. As she navigated through the crowd, she saw, with a sinking heart, that she was only a block away from the orphanage.

The Home had been where she lived since she was two years old. Her mother, she had heard, had died of influenza, and her father couldn't care for a child, so he left her on the doorstep of the home with a note telling them her name and age. She didn't remember them much, but she did remember mother tucking her into bed at night and singing her sweet lullabies. Now that she was eighteen, she should be out of the Home, but, since she had no place else to go, Miss Stewart agreed to keep her as help. The wages were very nearly nonexistent, and the accommodations were terrible, but she considered herself lucky for not being on the streets.

She reached the Home and went around to the side, where the servants' entrance was, hidden from view of the streets. She opened the door with some difficulty as the basket kept hindering her progress, but she managed to finally get it open wide enough for her to slip through. She set the basket on the center counter and wiped her hands off on her grubby apron. The door to the kitchen opened, but, so used to the daily hustle and bustle, she didn't turn until she heard Miss Stewart call her name.

"Emily Catherine, I need you." Emily winced at the use of her full name, but the authority of Miss Stewart's voice was impossible to ignore, so Emily followed her up the stairs. They reached the parlor, a room that Emily had barely been in, and she saw a very finely dressed gentlewoman sitting on the elegant sofa. "Emily Catherine, this is Madam Elizabeth Mason." Emily curtsied to the lady as Miss Stewart departed, leaving them alone.

"Please, sit." Madam Mason's voice was very refined, her accent perfect. Emily sat down in the armchair across from the sofa, folding her hands in her lap, painfully aware that her clothes were dirty and her fingernails bitten. "Now, Emily, Miss Stewart tells me that you are eighteen, am I correct?" Emily nodded, trying her best to hide the confused look that she was sure was threatening to mar her features. "Please answer out loud, Emily," she admonished.

"Yes, ma'am," Emily said, as clearly as she could manage.

"Well, I see that your manners are good. Now, I have already spoken with Miss Stewart, and she is quite alright with it, but she suggested that I speak to you." She looked Emily right in the eye, something Emily was not used to. "I am traveling to America in one month's time, on the R.M.S Titanic. I wish to have a companion with me, as my son and I are traveling alone. I came here to find such a companion, and Miss Stewart suggested you. Would you be willing to accompany me?"

Emily couldn't help but stare at her; she, accompany a lady of stature on the grandest ship afloat? Finding her voice, Emily answered her. "I would be honored to accompany you, ma'am."

"Very well then," she sounded pleased. "You will be staying with me until then, of course. There are many things to be seen to. First, we must get you a suitable wardrobe," she examined Emily's clothes with distaste, and Emily could feel her cheeks flaming. "Then I must take you to voice lessons. That accent will not due to be heard by John Jacob Astor!" She laughed a twinkling little laugh.

"But, ma'am," Emily stammered, quite overwhelmed with this change. "I have no money. I could not possibly afford a wardrobe."

"Why, dear girl," she sounded astonished, "I will be paying for all of this, of course."

"Thank you, ma'am." Emily inclined her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she could not believe her new good fortune.

"It is nothing," she waved an elegantly gloved hand in dismissal. "Now, I need to speak with Miss Stewart. Will you fetch her, please?" Emily nodded and stood up from her chair. Curtsying to her again, Emily left the room. Miss Stewart was in her office, sorting through papers, when Emily knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said, without looking up.

"Madam Mason wishes to see you, ma'am." She looked up then, and smiled, something that Emily had rarely seen her do.

"Ah yes, you are going then?" Emily nodded and she stood up from her desk. "Very well." She swept out of the room, and Emily followed her back to the parlor. "Madam Mason, you are pleased with her, then?" Miss Stewart inquired when they reached the parlor.

"Yes, I am satisfied that she will make an excellent companion for me." Madam Mason looked in Emily's direction and smiled kindly. Emily smiled back shyly. "Please, Emily, sit down." She sat again in the same armchair. "Now, I will take her home with me today, if that is fine with you, Miss Stewart."

"But of course." Miss Stewart sounded slightly shocked, but she was the gracious hostess nonetheless. Emily knew, however, that she was only eager to let her go because it meant she did not have to pay her.

"Come, Emily, the motorcar is waiting." Madam Mason stood up and swept gracefully from the room, and Emily followed behind. The motorcar was, indeed, waiting for them by the curb. The driver opened the door and held his hand out for Madam Mason, which she took delicately, and he helped her in. He turned to Emily next, holding out his hand the same way he had done for Madam Mason. Slightly shocked, Emily placed her hand in his and stepped up into the automobile. The inside was quite elegant, with rich, crimson velvet lining the walls, and the same colored satin covering the windows.

"Now, let's have a good look at you." Emily started, not sure that she wanted to be looked at. "Your features are quite elegant, very finely proportioned, delicate cheekbones; you could very well be of high birth. You are of Scottish decent, yes?"

"I do not know, ma'am." Madam Mason looked puzzled. "My mother died when I was two, ma'am, and my father couldn't take care of me, so he left me at the Home. Therefore, I know nothing of my heritage or family."

She nodded. "With your blue eyes and black hair, you look like you could be Scottish. Now, let me think of a wardrobe for you." She studied Emily for a moment more. "Yes, the latest fashion would look very good on you. Small frame, delicate build..." Emily was beginning to feel like a horse on auction as Madam Mason examined her, but it couldn't quell the feeling of excitement as she thought of the upcoming month and then the journey. "We will need to stop at the dress shop on the way home, of course. You need bedclothes for this week at least, and day dresses."

She continued on this track all the way to the dress shop. The driver helped Emily out of the motorcar, and she stood on the walk, looking at the store while she waited for Madam Mason to join her. A simple sign hung over the door, reading _Madam Lucas's Dress Shoppe. _The sign was adorned with a picture of a bobbin and needle. They stepped into the store, and Emily was immediately accosted by sight and smell.

The shop floor was covered with mannequins displaying the newest fashions, and the walls held the latest in lingerie and bed clothing. As soon as they entered, a lady bustled up to us, measuring tapes hung around her neck.

"Hello again, Madam Mason!" she greeted cheerfully. "Is this the companion that you were telling me about?"

"This is Emily," she introduced Emily, and she curtsied to the lady. "We're here to get her some clothes before we buy her entire wardrobe. Let's see, we need..." Madam Mason took out her list, which was a good foot long. Deciding at this point that it was better to just go along with her plans, Emily tuned out everything and simply thought about what had happened.

X

They made it out of the shop two hours later, the driver laden down with many packages. The driver put them all in the automobile before helping the Madam and Emily in.

"Home, driver," Madam instructed imperiously. "Now Emily, tonight you'll meet my son, and tomorrow he will take you to your voice lessons."

"Voice lesson, ma'am?" Emily had never thought that her voice was very bad.

"Of course, dear," she sounded shocked that Emily hadn't thought of it. "Your accent is fairly good already, but it has room for refinement."

"Yes ma'am," Emily said quietly, looking out the window at the passing houses. They were all large, fine houses, houses that Emily could only dream about entering. As she looked, she couldn't help but wonder which of these grand buildings was the only that she would spend a month in. This unasked question was answered in just a minute's time.

The house they stopped in front of was very large, almost larger than any of the others. The brick was faded but still beautiful, the windows of all three stories sparkling clean and trimmed in white. The tall, reddish-brown door was slightly formidable as a tuxedoed butler opened it from the inside, inviting them in.

"Welcome home, Emily." Madam's voice was warm, but the word "home" made Emily cringe slightly. This world was grand, but she was not quite sure that it was for her. She walked up the wide front steps with trepidation, inclining her head slightly as the butler bowed to her, and she stepped into the hall.

The floor was white and gray marble, with black marble on the edges. The mahogany walls were covered in gilt mirrors, reflecting Emily in her new finery a thousand times over. The heels of Emily's new shoes clacked gently on the marble as she walked further into the house, looking around in awe.

"Emily?" She came to earth with a jolt as Madam Mason called her name from the stairs; she had not even noticed Madam Mason passing her. "You will follow me upstairs, to your room, and then rest for an hour before dinner." Emily nodded as she joined her at the stairs.

She led Emily up to the second floor, to a door at the end of the hall.

"This is my room," she indicated the door across from the one they had stopped in front of, "and this is my son's." This door was right next to Emily's. She opened the door to Emily's room, and Emily gasped in shock.

The room was the most elegant that Emily had ever seen: the walls were of the same mahogany as the downstairs, but warmer and richer. The single window was draped in crimson velvet, much the same as in the carriage. The bed was a tall canopy, with the same velvet as on the window. The quilt was a beautiful patchwork of crimson and gold velvet, with gold edging. The vanity and dresser were made of the same mahogany as the walls, and the vanity bench was padded in plush fabric.

"You like it?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Emily stood in the middle of the room, rotating slowly as she looked at every detail.

"Good." Madam Mason sounded very pleased. "I'll leave you to rest, then I will come up and help you dress for supper." Madam Mason turned and left, closing the door behind her. Emily sat down on the large bed, overwhelmed tears of joy leaking out of her eyes.

_This life is amazing,_ she thought, as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows, falling asleep almost instantly.


	2. The Night Before

"Yes, this dress suits your figure perfectly." Madam Mason stood back to look at Emily, a smile playing on her lips. Emily took as deep a breath as her corset would allow and turned to look at herself in the mirror. The dress was deep blue, matching her eyes wonderfully, and made of soft satin. Over the skirt was another half-skirt of black lace that fell to mid-calf. The top was low-cut, making Emily somewhat uncomfortable, and the sleeves were layered: dark blue to the elbows, then white lace to the wrists. If Emily had not watched this transformation take place, she would not have recognized herself. "Let's go down to supper, shall we?" Emily nodded and picked up the white satin gloves that Madam Mason was requiring her to wear until her nails grew back. Slipping them on as she walked out the door, she could not help but wonder about the mysterious son that she was about to meet.

They reached the dining room, and the first thing Emily saw was a very handsome young man seated at the table, who stood as soon as he saw the women enter the room.

"Mother," he greeted in a low, rich voice. He kissed his mother on the hand, then turned to Emily. "And who is this charming young lady?" He took her hand next and kissed it tenderly.

"This is Emily, my new companion. Emily, this is my son, Edward."

"You can call me Ed." Emily curtsied, hiding the blush on her cheeks. Edward certain was handsome; very tall, probably close to a foot over Emily's own five foot four, handsome, with the rugged, careless good looks of one who did not have to try to be good looking. Ed held out his arm for Emily, and she laid her hand delicately in the crook of his elbow as he escorted her to her seat at the table. Holding out her chair for her before walking around the table to seat his mother, then sit in the seat directly across from Emily.

"Emily, tell me more about yourself," Madam Mason instructed. "I know so little about you."

"There really isn't that much to tell, ma'am."

"Nonsense. Tell me about your family."

"As I've already told you, ma'am, mother died when I was two, from influenza," Emily said, looking down at the soup that had been set in front of her. "My father was a worker at the quarry, so he couldn't take care of a child. He left me on the front step of the Home, with a note telling my name and situation, and he left." Emily couldn't keep the slight note of bitterness out of her voice. "I don't even know if he's still alive," she added quietly.

"That's terrible," Edward said, and Emily glanced up to meet his eyes across the table. He smiled kindly at her and she blushed again, busying herself with her soup to hide her red cheeks. She heard Ed chuckle quietly, and she dared to look up, only to see him studying her, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned.

The night passed quickly, with Madam Mason retiring early, leaving her son and Emily to get better acquainted.

"Ed, what happened to your father?" Emily asked timidly after hours of talking about the upcoming journey.

"He died when I was twelve," he said simply, with a strange lack of sadness in his tone.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking down at her gloved hands. "How did he die?"

"He killed himself." Still, there was nothing in his voice to betray that he felt anything but detachment towards this subject.

"Oh!" Emily exclaimed, looking up in shock. "I'm terribly sorry!"

"I was never very close to him. He was not around enough for me to know him." Emily looked at him, trying to determine why this young man was so blasé about his own father's death. "Look at the time!" Ed exclaimed suddenly. "It's about time I got you to bed. If what mother says is any indication, you have a full day ahead of you."

Indeed, Madam Mason had said that her wardrobe fitting, and etiquette and voice lessons would begin the very next day.

Ed stood up from the armchair he had been seated in, and held out his hand to Emily, who took it after a second's hesitation. He walked her up to her room, depositing her at her door with a kiss on the hand. She opened the door to her room and closed it with one last look at the handsome man on the other side. As she undressed, pulling her corset off with difficulty, she couldn't help but smile as she thought of Edward. Her thoughts were still filled with him as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

X

The next month passed by in a whirl, not giving Emily satisfactory time to remember anything clearly. Her voice and etiquette left her with the poise and manners of a refined, first class young woman, and her new wardrobe only reinforced that image. She had begun to notice that Ed Mason was looking at her differently, and she was not entirely pleased with this new attention.

A week before Titanic was to set out on her maiden voyage, they started their packing. If it had been a month earlier, Emily would have thought this too soon to pack, but, with her new wardrobe, she knew that it was almost not soon enough.

Emily was sitting on her bed the night before the voyage when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in," she called, her new refined voice sounding strange to her ears.

"Mother says that supper is ready." Ed Mason stuck his head in door, smiling at Emily as she set her book down and stood up.

"Best not keep Madam waiting," she said teasingly, with a laugh in her voice. She knew, of course, that she was only half joking. During her month's stay with the Masons she had begun to realize that her first impression of Madam Mason was very wrong; while she had thought that Madam was a kind elderly lady, she had turned out to be very manipulative and demanding, making Emily think less and less of high society.

Emily took the elbow that Ed held out for her and they went down the stairs together. As they walked, Emily could not help but think that this young man was far kinder than his mother.

"Ah, there you are." Madam Mason was already seated at the table when Ed and Emily made their appearance. As he did every night, Ed held out Emily's chair for her. Emily could not stop the small shiver that dance up her spine as Ed's hand lingered for a moment on her back. "Now, Emily, I have know you for a month, and I have yet to ask you one very important question: What is your last name?"

"Oh," Emily gasped in dismay. She had been dreading this inquiry for some time now. "I don't know, ma'am."

"You don't know?" Madam Mason sounded scandalized. "How could you not know your own last name?"

"Because I do not know my family, ma'am."

"Of course," Madam Mason murmured, taking a small spoonful of soup in her mouth. "Well, in that case, I shall introduce you as Emily Sullivan. That was my dear friend's surname, but he has passed now, so no one shall question when I tell them that you are his daughter." Emily nodded, taking a sip of her glass of wine. "You are packed then, dear?"

"Yes ma'am, all of my luggage is ready to be put in the motorcar." Madam Mason nodded in approval before going back to her supper.

"Now, Edward, your things are packed as well, I assume?"

"Yes, mother." Emily glanced up and met Ed's eye across the table, quickly spooning more soup in her mouth to quell the laughter that threatened to spill out.

When supper was through, Ed hurried around the table to help Emily out of her chair. Emily smiled slightly, enjoying the close proximity to him. He escorted her to the sitting room, where they stay every day after supper, simply talking, until it was time for bed. Today, however, their time was cut short, since they needed to retire early in order to get up in time to get to the ship.

Ed took Emily to her room, where they parted with the usual kiss on the hand. This time, instead of simply leaving her at the door after this kiss, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. She stared at him as he turned and entered his room, casting her one smiling look over his shoulder before closing the door. Emily shook her head to clear it and entered her own room. She set about putting her night clothes on, her heart still fluttering from the unexpected kiss. She sat on the vanity stool, picking up her hairbrush and running it through her long black tresses as she examined her flushed cheeks in the mirror. The smile faded as she thought more about Ed.

What was it about Edward Mason that made her so uneasy? He was a refined gentleman, and she was sure that if she was higher up on the social ladder that they would be engaged by now. He was always congenial, perfectly polite, but there was something that still warned her away. Maybe it was that he had become friendlier since her etiquette and voice lessons had turned her into a lady. Whatever it was, Emily decided to worry about it later. She crawled under the cover of her bed and smiled again as she drifted off to sleep, visions of Titanic and the ocean filling her dreams.


	3. Ship of Dreams

Emily had been staring at the R.M.S. Titanic for near ten minutes, and still she could not take her eyes off of it. The ship was magnificent, with its four smokestacks reaching up to the sky, and the many windows creating sparkles on the blue water beneath them. Emily and the Masons made their way forward, Madam Mason commenting the whole time on how slow the line was moving. Emily stifled an exasperated sigh as Madam Mason voiced her impatience loudly, taking it out on the nearest steward, who was helping with their bags.

"I'm sorry about her," Emily murmured under her breath to the hapless steward. He smiled at her slightly.

"I get this all the time, miss." The steward picked up Emily's luggage and carried them to their cabins as Emily, Edward, and Madam Mason got their tickets checked. The inside of the grand ship was even more magnificent than the outside. The walls were a rich burgundy color, with accents of gold. The plush carpet muffled the footsteps of the passengers as they made their way to their respective cabins.

"Here are our cabins," Madam Mason said, stopping in front of cabins B-44, 46, 48, and 50. She unlocked the door to B-48, and ushered Emily and Edward in. Emily gasped in awe at the room.

The walls were the same deep burgundy with gold accents as the rest of the first class area. Each room held a white marble fireplace, where one could light a cheerful fire in the cold evenings.

"Your room is in B-44," Madam Mason told Emily. "Mine is 50, and Edward's is 46." She pointed in the direction of Emily's room, and Emily eagerly took her luggage into the room, grinning when she entered the grand room. The bed was even more luxurious than the one that she had been given at the Masons' house, with tall, elegant posts at each corner, and a lovely feather mattress. Emily set about unpacking her wardrobe, hanging up her fine dresses in the closet and putting her nightclothes and under things in the mahogany dresser. When this task was done, Madam Mason agreed to let her go up on the deck to see the ship off. Emily hurried up the stairs to the open-air deck, eager to see the great ship leave harbor.

The deck was crowded, so Emily had some trouble finding a spot that she could see from, but she finally managed to secure a perch on the railing.

The ropes were just being let off of the dock as Emily leaned over the railing. It took two men to each rope to get them off, as they were about as thick as Emily's arm. Three tugboats, attached to both sides and the front, helped the Titanic make it out of the harbor. Emily could not keep down the thrill of excitement that went through her whole body: she was going to America, on the grandest ship afloat!

X

Emily went back to the cabins ten minutes after Titanic launched, only to find Madam Mason waiting for her.

"Ah, Emily, there you are," the older lady greeted her. "Now, it is time for lunch, so we must get you dressed. This will be the first time that everyone meets you, so you must make a good impression."

"Yes, ma'am," Emily said dutifully, as Madam Mason led the way to Emily's room.

"Would you like to wear your blue dress, or the lovely red dress?" Madam went to the closet and pulled out both articles of clothing.

Emily examined each one for a moment before deciding. "I'd like to wear my red dress," she said.

"Excellent choice, dear." Madam Mason hung the blue dress back up and turned back to Emily. "Now, take off that traveling dress, and I shall help you put this one on." Emily unbuttoned the tan and white traveling dress and stepped out of it. Madam Mason helped her lace up her corset tighter, and Emily gasped as the corset pinched her already small waist. After the corset was properly restricting Emily's breathing, Madam Mason pulled the red dress over Emily's head. Emily giggled slightly as the soft satin tickled her smooth skin. Madam Mason buttoned and laced the dress, and then let Emily step back to look at her reflection in the mirror. Emily was very pleased with what she saw there.

The dress was a deep blood red, trimmed in cream-colored lace; it was long enough that Emily was forced to hold it up as she walked. The gloves that she wore, even though her nails were suitable to be seen, were the same cream color as the lace on her dress.

"Now, aren't you lovely!" Madam Mason exclaimed joyously. Emily smiled in agreement. "Let's present you, shall we? Edward, come here please!" Edward appeared at the door as if he had been waiting there the whole time. Ed's eyes grew wide when he saw Emily.

"You look beautiful, Em," Edward said quietly, causing a delicate blush to creep into the young lady's cheeks. "May I escort a lady to dinner?" He held out his arm, and, after a moment's hesitation, Emily took the proffered elbow. "Coming mother?"

"Yes, of course, I shall be there in just a moment. You just take her to the dining room, introduce her to everyone." Edward nodded in consent and led Emily out of the room.

"Now, these people are fairly intimidating," Ed warned Emily as they made their way down the hall, "so just let me do most of the talking at first. When you feel comfortable, join in the conversation." Emily nodded silently. "Don't worry, Em," Edward assured her, giving her arm a little squeeze. "You'll do just fine."

They entered the dining room, which was very large, and very grand. The walls were painted white, in contrast with the warm mahogany of the rest of the ship. Each individual table was set for five, with the exception of one large table in the centre, which was set for about fifteen. It was around this table that Emily caught her first glimpse of the "royalty" that she would be expected to talk to.

They were all dressed to perfection, the men in impeccable suits and ties, and the ladies in dresses worthy to be seen by the queen herself. Edward led a very nervous Emily straight towards this group of lovely, intimidating creatures.


	4. Tommy Ryan

"Ah!" one of the gentlemen exclaimed when he caught sight of Edward and Emily. "And here is young Edward Mason." He shook hands firmly with Edward before turning to Emily. "But I don't recognize your companion. Who is this lovely young lady, my boy?"

"This is Emily Sullivan, Mr. Astor. She is traveling with mother and I. Emily, this is John Jacob Astor."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Astor." Emily conducted a graceful curtsy.

"You are a charming one, aren't you?" Mr. Astor took Emily's gloved hand in his own large one and kissed her knuckles. "How old are you, Miss Sullivan?"

"Eighteen, sir."

"Eighteen, eh? Well, Miss Sullivan, you're just about the same age as Miss Dewitt Bukater here." Mr. Astor gestured towards a young, red-haired woman who was on the arm of a very handsome man. "Would you like to meet her?" Emily nodded politely, and Mr. Astor took her off of Edward's arm, transferring her hand efficiently from Ed's elbow to his own, and led her to where the couple stood. Mr. Astor cleared his throat when he reached them.

"Ah, hello Mr. Astor." The young man's greeting was certainly pleasant enough, but something about his eyes warned Emily that he was not a pleasant person. These same eyes lit upon Emily within moments. "Who is this beautiful girl that you've bamboozled into letting you escort her?" The laughter from his joke did not go any further than his mouth.

"This is Miss Emily Sullivan. She's traveling with the Masons, and she is about your age, Rose."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Sullivan. My name is Caldon Hockley, but you may call me Cal." He took Emily's hand and kissed her knuckles; it took all of Emily's willpower not to yank her hand away. "And this is my fiancée, Rose Dewitt Bukater." The two ladies curtsied to each other.

"Charmed, I'm sure." The redhead smiled in a detached, distant sort of way.

"And here is our captain, Mr. Edward Smith." Mr. Astor turned her to face a jolly-looking, white haired man who appeared to be in his 60's.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Smith." Emily's month worth of etiquette lessons seemed to be paying off nicely.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sullivan." The man's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, making his aged face seem years younger.

A bell was rung then, signaling that dinner was about to be served. Mr. Astor led Emily to the table and pulled out a chair for her, which Emily seated herself in gratefully; her pumps were beginning to hurt her feet. Emily found herself seated between Rose Dewitt Bukater and Edward, the latter of whom kept trying to catch her eye, and the former whom was trying to avoid any conversation, it seemed.

Dinner passed by in a whirl of laughter, conversation, and music. Though they had been seated precisely at one o'clock, they did not finish eating and conversing until well after two. By the time it was suitable to excuse herself, Emily was feeling exhausted, and not as excited about this new life as she had been a month ago.

"If you'll excuse me," she said politely, standing up from her chair, "I'm going to catch a breath of fresh air out on the deck."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Sullivan." This sentiment was repeated up and down the table as Emily left, breathing a sigh of relief when the cool ocean air hit her face. Emily made her way to the bow of the ship, passing by many well-dressed ladies and gentlemen. Emily bypassed these people, making her way, instead, to the bow, where the third class deck was located. Emily opened the gate and stepped through, feeling an automatic sense of relief as she looked at the third class passengers.

Emily passed by a group of three men, and she couldn't help but notice that their eyes followed her as she walked. She stopped about fifty feet down from these men and leaned against the rail, looking out at the azure ocean.

As she looked back at where the shore had been, she felt a pang of homesickness. Though Southampton had never held any fond memories for her, Emily knew that it had been her only home. It was only one short month ago that she had simply been Emily Catherine, a poor maid at the orphanage, and now, she was Emily Catherine Sullivan, supposed wealthy companion to the wealthy Madam Mason. Emily glanced down at the cream gloves on her hands, scowling at the unoffending pieces of fabric. Suddenly these soft satin accessories seemed to embody her entire social climb, and she hated them. For once, she longed, more than anything, to be Emily Catherine again. To hear Miss Stewart barking orders irritably, to shove her way through the crowded marketplace, and to tend to the crying babies.

As Emily looked at her gloves, a sudden inspiration struck her. Grinning like a mischievous child, she took her gloves off one by one and bunched them up in her hand. With one last look at the wide, blue ocean, she tossed her gloves to the waves, watching as they drifted down to rest among the sapphire crests. Still grinning, she leaned back against the railing.

"Might I ask what a lovely first class lady like yerself is doin' down here murderin' her gloves?" Emily whipped around, startled by the newcomer.

The man leaning on the railing next to her was one of the men she had passed before. Judging by his accent, he was Irish, and his looks supported this. His curly hair was a dirty-strawberry-blonde, and long enough to peek out from under the worn brown hat that was perched on his head. His eyes were a warm hazel-green, and they seemed to sparkle as they studied her.

"Oh!" Emily gasped, clutching her recently liberated hands to her heart. Despite her shock, however, she liked this man immediately, and smiled up at him. "I suppose you might ask that." She smiled and turned back to look over the railing, but she could no longer see her gloves.

"My name's Tommy Ryan, by the way." He reached for her hand, and took it in his large, calloused ones, kissing her knuckles. This was very different from when the gentlemen in the dining room had done so; somehow, in that one simple gesture, Tommy Ryan was able to say that he cared about _her,_ and not her looks or the way she dressed.

"Emily Sullivan."

"So, what _is _a first class lady doin' down here?"

"Oh," Emily laughed, turning to look back out at the ocean. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked abruptly, turning to face Tommy Ryan. "You can't tell anyone, though."

"That's the nature o' secrets, isn't it?" Emily laughed again.

"Yes, I suppose it is." She studied Tommy for a moment before saying, "I'm not _really_ first class."

"What?" He looked confused, and probably rightly so.

"Well, what I mean is, I'm _traveling _first class, and I _dress_ first class, and I'm expected to _act _like I'm first class, but I'm really not." He still looked puzzled. Emily happened to glance up at the sun, and realized that it was far later than she had thought. "Oh dear," she said with dismay. "I must be getting back. I promised Madam Mason that I would help her dress for supper, and lord knows that it might take two hours." She stepped away from the railing and faced Tommy again. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Ryan." He took her hand and kissed it again, but didn't let go afterwards.

"Ya didn't finish tellin' me yer story, Miss Sullivan."

"Oh, yes, right." Emily thought for a moment. "Meet me right here at eleven o'clock."

Tommy released her hand and grinned, a gorgeous, heart stopping grin. "Eleven o'clock," he repeated. "I'll see ya then, Miss Sullivan." Emily hurried away, but couldn't resist a backwards glance. Tommy was still standing there, looking after her, that grin still on his face. As Emily turned away, she couldn't help but smile, as well.


	5. Dinner Invitation

Supper let out at nine o'clock sharp, and Emily excused herself to her cabin, explaining that she was tired after such a long day. Everybody seemed to buy this excuse, so Emily walked back to her cabin as calmly as possible. When she was safely in her cabin, she sat down on her bed, finally able to giggle over Tommy Ryan, as she had wanted to do since she had met him. She thought of the way his smile sent butterflies fluttering against her ribcage, and how, when he kissed her hand, the spot where his lips had been tingled.

Emily stood up quickly, deciding that she needed to change out of her dress. It wasn't the same one she had worn at dinner, heaven forbid she should wear the same dress twice, but it was equally as nice. This one was a dark midnight blue, almost the exact shade of her eyes. Emily stripped off the dress quickly, and then loosened her corset herself, a difficult task, but very rewarding. She took a deep breath, smiling as air filled her lungs fully for the first time since the night before. Walking over to her closet in nothing but her underclothes, she rummaged through the numerous dresses until she found one that was suitably comfortable. Pulling it off the hanger, she nodded, satisfied with her find.

This dress was blue, the same shade as the one she had just taken off, but much simpler. This one didn't have a train, but it was long enough that she needed to hold it up when she walked. The lace trim was black, very subtle, yet elegant at the same time. She pulled the dress over her head, then let her hair loose, deciding that it complimented the dress perfectly, since her black tresses were the same color as the black lace. Stepping back, she looked in the mirror, satisfied with what she saw there. As she sat back down on her bed to wait, she couldn't help but laugh a little bit; she was getting all dressed up to see a man that she had met once.

She lay back on her bed, thinking that she'd take a small nap before meeting Tommy. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought of Tommy's smile, and how it was the first genuine one she had received all day.

X

When Emily woke up, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Memories of boarding the Titanic filled her head, and then she remembered Tommy Ryan. Sitting up with a jolt, she looked frantically at the clock that sat on the mantle of her fireplace. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was still twenty to eleven. Standing up, she smoothed her dress, which had gotten slightly mussed while she slept. She walked over to her vanity, which was much nicer than the one she had been given at the Masons' house, and sat down on the bench. Looking into the mirror, she noticed that her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her sapphire blue eyes were sparkling. Not willing to admit that this reaction was caused by the thought of the handsome Irishman she had met earlier, she picked up her ivory-handled hairbrush and ran it through her long black curls.

By the time she was done brushing her hair, it was ten to eleven. Deciding that she couldn't wait any longer, she drug the brush through her hair one more time, then stood up from her vanity bench. She hesitated a moment, debating over whether to bring a coat or not, decided not to, and opened the door of her suite room quietly. She closed it behind her as quietly as she could manage, not wanting to wake Edward, then opened the outside door and stepped into the empty hallway. Smiling, she made her way outside.

As soon as she stepped onto the outside deck, she regretted not grabbing her coat. She thought about going back to grab one, but decided against it, making her way, instead, to the bow of the ship, and Tommy Ryan.

He was waiting for her when she reached the bow. Emily slowed down when she saw him, and she couldn't help but noticed that he had the strong, muscled body of a laborer. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, and the smile that lit up his face was breathtaking.

"You came." He sounded delighted.

"Of course," Emily replied with a laugh. "Did you expect me not to?"

Tommy simply laughed. Emily decided that she liked his laugh very much.

"Now, what's this story ya were about ta tell me?" Emily laughed again, then leaned against the railing and began her story.

She told him all about growing up in the orphanage, and how Madam Mason had needed a companion. When she was finished, Tommy Ryan simply looked at her.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Ya have a lot o' courage, Miss Sullivan."

"Please, call me Emily. And what do you mean I have courage?"

"Puttin' up with that Miss Stewart like ya did. Not runnin' away. Ta tell ya in complete honesty, I woulda been long gone." Emily laughed again. "I like yer laugh, Emily." Emily stopped laughing immediately, and turned her head to hide the blush that was creeping up into her cheeks. Tommy chuckled quietly. "Well, Emily, 'tis been a pleasure, but ya must be gettin' back ta bed."

"Oh, yes, of course." Emily couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice, and Tommy chuckled again.

See the disappointed look on her face, he said, "Tell ya what, there's a party, down in third class, day after tomorrow. Meet me down on F Deck, an' I'll take ya there." Emily smiled.

"I'll be there," she promised. "Now," she sighed, "I suppose I must be getting back."

"O' course," Tommy chuckled. Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it, then released it and stepped back, a smile still playing around his lips. "I'll see ya then...Emily." Emily grinned once more, then turned and walked back in the direction of her cabin, thinking the whole time of Tommy Ryan's laugh.


	6. Saving Rose

_April 11__th_

"You seem to be in good humor today, Miss Sullivan." This observation was given by Mr. Andrews at breakfast the next morning.

"It is simply wonderful to be on such a grand ship, Mr. Andrews." Emily knew that this reply would be suitable, as Mr. Andrews was the designer of the Titanic. "It took until this morning to fully comprehend how lovely it is to be at sea." This remark earned Emily approving glances from the other diners.

"Yes, she certainly is magnificent, Mr. Andrews," Rose agreed. This shocked Emily somewhat; until now, Rose had remained unsociable and taciturn at meals. Emily glanced up at Rose, who was seated directly across from her, and met the slightly older woman's eye. To Emily's surprise, Rose smiled at her like an old friend. "I was wondering, Miss Sullivan, if you would care to join me for a walk around the deck after breakfast?"

"Of course, I would love to." Emily smiled at Rose, then both ladies went back to their breakfasts.

Rose finished her breakfast ten minutes later, and stood up from the table. "Are you finished?" she asked Emily politely.

"Yes, of course." Emily had, in fact, been finished for near five minutes. The two ladies excused themselves from the table and left the room together. Once they were out on the deck, Emily decided to ask something that had been on her mind since Rose's invitation. "Might I ask why you asked me to join you?"

Rose laughed. "To be perfectly honest, it is because you seem to be the only one in our party that has any common sense." Emily laughed as well. "And, since we are very nearly the same age, I thought that it would be nice for both of us to talk of things other than politics." Emily fervently agreed on this. "So, Miss Sullivan, tell me more about yourself. Where did you grow up?"

"Please call me Emily." Rose smiled in agreement. "As to where I'm from, I grew up in Southampton. I've lived near the Masons all my life." This story had been carefully rehearsed by Emily and the Masons.

"Ah yes, the Masons." Rose looked over at Emily with a knowing look in her eyes. "That Edward Mason seems to have taken a fancy to you."

Emily felt herself blush. "You must be mistaken," she mumbled, looking out at the ocean.

"Oh I'm not mistaken," Rose laughed. "Believe me, if you don't get a marriage proposal from him in the next month, I shall be very surprised."

Emily blushed an even deeper crimson. Wishing to get to a topic other than herself, she searched her mind for something to say. Looking back at Rose, she asked, "Are these the kind of looks that you received from Mr. Hockley?" To her surprise, Rose simply scowled.

"No," she said shortly. "I never got looks like that from Cal. Ours is simply a marriage of convenience."

"Do you not love him, then?"

"No," Rose said again. "To be perfectly truthful, I can't stand the man. Mother agreed to let him marry me simply because we have little money, and Cal has all of it." Rose gave a very bitter laugh and looked out at the ocean.

Emily did not know what to say, so, instead, she wordlessly laid her hand on Rose's arm.

"I feel so trapped, Emily," Rose confessed softly, "Like I have no place to go, no one who cares enough to ask me if anything is wrong."

"Rose, my cabin number is B-44," Emily said decisively. "You can come in anytime you feel the need to. Don't bother knocking."

Rose looked startled as she glanced over at Emily, then, slowly, she smiled. "Thank you, Emily," she said quietly.

That night, Rose seemed very distant at supper. She was very polite, of course, her upbringing wouldn't allow anything else, but she was quiet, and spoke only when spoken to. She left the table early, saying that she had a headache, and needed to retire. Emily watched her leave, unable to explain the sense of foreboding that she felt watching her new friend leave.

"Emily?" The sound of her name startled her out of her thoughts. "Emily, supper is through." Emily looked up to see Edward standing next to her chair. "May I escort you back to our cabins?"

"Oh, no thank you, Ed. I think I'd like to take a walk out on the deck."

"Alright, then. I'm going to join the others in the smoking room. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Emily." He took her hand and kissed it, giving her one last, lingering look before departing to the Smoking Lounge with the other men. Emily stood up from the table and exited the room, taking a deep breath of relief when she stepped onto the deck.

Emily had been wandering about for what seemed like hours, but, in reality it was merely minutes, when she heard the scream. She knew, instinctively, that it was Rose, so she ran as fast as she could towards the bow, where the scream had come from.

Upon reaching the bow, she saw Rose dangling over the side, clutching desperately at the hands of a man that Emily had never seen.

"Rose!" she screamed, rushing to the railing to stand next to the man. Reaching down, she grabbed Rose's wrist.

"Pull!" the man instructed, and he and Emily pulled at the same time. It took them five minutes, the longest minutes of Emily's life, but they got Rose over the railing and back on the solid deck where she belonged. Unfortunately, the manner in which they landed was very compromising, and it was with the rescuer on top of Rose that two officers of the White Star Line found them.

"Get away from 'er!" one of them growled, rushing forward to pull the man roughly off of Rose.

"Sir, please, it's not what it looks like," Emily protested, reaching out to grab the officer's arm.

"We'll see about that." Turning to the other officer, he barked, "Get the Master of Arms."

The Master of Arms, along with Caldon Hockley, Mr. Lovejoy, and Colonel Gracie, arrived shortly thereafter, and Cal looked simply furious.

"How _dare _you lay a hand on her!" he shouted, gathering Rose close to him in a sickening display of false affection.

"Cal," Rose protested, "he saved me."

"He-he saved you?" Cal sounded shocked. "What were you doing that you needed saving?"

"I was leaning over the railing, to see the propellers, and I slipped." She looked frantically at her rescuer, telling him with her eyes not to say anything yet. "I would have gone overboard, but Mr. Dawson here saved me."

"Well," Cal, for once, sounded as if he was at a loss for words. "Well," he said again, "I suppose I should be thanking you then, Mr. Dawson. Lovejoy," he gestured to his hulking bodyguard, "a twenty should do it."

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Rose asked in a mocking voice.

"Ah, Rose is displeased. What to do? Ah, I know," he walked over to Mr. Dawson. "Mr. Dawson, how would you like to join us for supper tomorrow night? You can regale our group with the tale of your heroic rescue."

"I'll be there," Mr. Dawson promised. Cal nodded once, then he and Rose left. Emily glanced back at Mr. Dawson once before following them.


	7. An Irish Party in Third Class

Knowing that she would be joining Tommy after supper, Emily took extra care in her appearance.

She perused her wardrobe carefully, deciding finally upon a midnight blue dress, darker than the one she had worn when first she met him. The elegant black lace was more pronounced in this one, making up the entire train that trailed three inches behind her as she walked. As she slipped her black gloves on and stepped into her blue satin shoes, she could not help but laugh at herself.

"Emily Catherine," she chided herself out loud. "Why do you do this for Mr. Ryan? You do not know him." But still, she gave a nod of satisfaction as she passed by her mirror. Stepping out of her cabin, she was met by Ed, who stood there, waiting for her.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Emily, as usual."

"Thank you," she murmured, the compliment somewhat spoiled for her. As Ed escorted her to the dining room, she could not help but compare him to Tommy Ryan. It was not a flattering comparison, either.

While they were both handsome, Edward's looks were harsher, Tommy's more soft and kind. Edward's eyes were as black and hard as granite, while Tommy's were as warm and inviting as a sun-warmed pond. The features of Edward's face were somewhat sharp and angular, whereas Tommy's had the cheerful, oval face of his Irish inheritance.

"Emily?" She heard her voice as if from a great distance. Shaking her head, she looked up to see Edward staring at her. "Emily, are you alright?"

"I am fine," she assured him.

"You have been looking very distant since we left your apartment. Do you need to retire?"

An idea struck Emily then. "I do feel a bit ill," she confessed falsely. "I do believe that it would be best if I retired early tonight. Please give my regards to the rest." Detaching herself from Edward's arm, she made her way back in the direction of the cabin. Once she was out of Edward's sight, she hurried back to the cabin as fast as her corset and shoes would allow her to.

Opening the door, she stepped into the empty apartments, hurrying to her own. Closing the door quickly behind her, she tore her gloves off her hands and tossed them negligently onto her bed. She then proceeded to take out the pins that held her hair into place, letting her black tresses cascade down her back in a soft, ebony waterfall. When this was done, she took off her dress and loosened the laces on her corset, refraining at the last minute from taking it off entirely. After this, she slipped off her shoes and into a more comfortable pair, this one made of a soft black satin. Finally, she pulled her dress back over her head and, with some difficulty, buttoned the tiny buttons up her back.

When she had finished redressing, she cautiously opened the door leading to the corridor, looking both ways to make sure that no supper stragglers where left in the hall. Satisfied that no one was coming, she stepped into the corridor, closing the door softly behind her. Hurrying down the corridor, she came to the elevator, which was just coming into sight from the lower regions of the ship. As the door opened, Emily slipped in quickly, not truly at ease until the golden doors closed again and the lift began to descend.

"F Deck, please," she said to the lift operator, who nodded. A few short minutes later, they arrived on F Deck, and the operator opened the doors, allowing Emily to slip out. Looking left and right, she did not see Tommy anywhere. This caused her some distress, as she did not know where to go. After looking both ways once more, she decided to head left, towards the bow of the ship.

"Emily?" Her name was called from behind her, the voice soothingly familiar. Turning, she saw Tommy Ryan walking towards her. "Yer early." He sounded pleased.

"I decided to skip dinner tonight," she explained as he caught up to her.

"Are ye hungry, then? We could eat in th' dining room, if ya want."

"Oh, that would be lovely. I _am _hungry; I just did not want to stay with those pompous, stuck up people." Tommy laughed and held out his arm. Emily placed her hand on the crook of his elbow, smiling at the contact with his warm skin.

The dining room, it turned out, was a long, crowded room bustling with life and chatter. Emily thought that she liked this one much better than the first class one. She got a few curious stares when she first entered, since she was wearing a fine dress, but they all accepted her as one of their own, something that warmed Emily's heart.

When supper was through, Tommy led her to another room, this one near the stern. Her first impression of the room was that it was small and loud, but after a moment, she realized that it was very large, simply crowded with people. Lively, Irish music filled the air, along with cigarette smoke.

"Are ye ready fer a real party?" Tommy's voice was very close to Emily's ear, and she felt a shiver of pleasure run up her spine.

"Yes," she breathed. Tommy took her by the hand and led her into the center of the room.

xXx

Emily stood by the table, surveying the two men sitting there with amusement. They had been at the party perhaps an hour and a half, and Emily was short of breath from dancing so much.

Tommy was sitting across the table from another Irishmen, a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. The two men's hands were joined across the table, the muscles of both their arms bulging with the intensity of the match. Emily let out an amused cry of dismay as Tommy's arm hit the table hard.

"Best two outta t'ree! Two outta t'ree!" he cried, reaching his arm out again.

"No, come dance with me!" Emily said, laughing as she tugged on Tommy's arm.

"Just one more match," he protested, tugging his arm out of her hands.

"Alright then," she laughed, "I'll just have to get another man to dance with me." She grinned as she turned from the table, making to walk off. She was stopped, however, by a pair of large, rough hands about her waist.

"Oh no ya don't," Tommy growled in mock ferocity. "I'll dance with ya, if that's what yer heart desires."

Emily laughed and threw her arms around his neck as he swung her around to the fast-tempo song. Without any warning at all, he brought his lips to hers.

She froze for barely a moment, stunned, before responding to the kiss with passion she had not known that she possessed. When she pulled away, she looked up into his hazel eyes, her breath coming out raggedly with excitement.

"Tommy," she whispered, looking up at him.

"Emily," he breathed back, leaning down to kiss her again. This time, there was no hesitation on her part. When this passionate kiss was over, he leaned his forehead on hers, forgetting to dance entirely as he looked into her beautiful ocean eyes.


	8. Confrontation and Comfort

When Emily finally made it back to her cabin, it was well after midnight. She walked into the cabin as silently as possible, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Where have you been?" The voice startled her, making her gasp and whip around to find the source. She saw him then, sitting in the chair by her fireplace.

"Edward!" she exclaimed, her hand clutching at her pounding heart. "What are you doing here?"

"Where have you been?" he demanded again, standing up.

"I-I went out on the deck for a bit of fresh air," she lied, thinking up an excuse as quickly as she could. "I must have fallen asleep on the chair."

"Do not lie," he said in a low, dangerous voice. As he stepped closer, Emily could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You have not been on the deck. I searched everywhere for you, when you were not in your cabin." Emily could feel panic building like an iron weight in her chest as he stepped closer still.

"Edward, I was on the deck," she insisted, her voice growing higher in her distress. "I was there the whole time."

"Do not lie!" he shouted, taking the last step that closed the gap between them. He grabbed the tops of her arms roughly, pulling her towards him. He brought his mouth crashing down upon hers, his mouth rough and aggressive, his tongue pushing past her lips.

"No!" she gasped, pulling away and wiping her mouth. "Do not-" But her words were cut off as he captured her mouth again.

Emily was almost crying as she struggled against his strong grasp, beating at his chest weakly with her small fists. Edward's hands were running roughly up and down her body, passing over her thighs in their quest to touch every inch of her. She shivered in revulsion as his groping fingers brushed along her hip. Edward reached her arms and, with rude, rough hands, grabbed the buttons at her back.

"No!" she cried again, trying to pull away. "Please!" He did not heed her, however, merely moving his hands from her back to her arm. His careless fingers tore the sleeve of her dress, ripping it so that it hung loosely down her arm. With one last desperate cry, Emily tore herself loose. Without a single backwards glance, she flung the door to the corridor open and ran out into the deserted hallway. She ran blindly, noting only dimly that she was heading in the direction of the elevator. As she reached the lift, she noticed that it was empty; the lifts did not work after midnight. Tears streaming down her face, she turned around, looking desperately for some form of escape.

It came in the shape of the staircase. When she saw the sign say "C-F Deck", with an arrow pointing downwards, she knew immediately that the only person she could turn to was Tommy. She ran down the stairs, nearly tripping several times in her panicked haste. She kept running, however, and made it down to F Deck relatively in one piece. When she reached the F Deck landing, she looked around helplessly, only then stopping to realize that she had no idea where Tommy's room was. She stumbled towards the bow of the ship, hoping beyond hope that this was the right direction.

She wandered around the ship for what seemed like forever, still crying, calling out for Tommy every once in a while. When she had been walking for near half an hour, she leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, a wave of fresh tears streaming down her face. Folding her arms over her knees, she rested her cheek on her arms, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She sat like this for ten minutes before she cried herself to sleep.

xXx

It was one in the morning when Tommy left the party. His Emily had had to leave at midnight, to get back to first class, but he had stayed to talk with the rest of the men who stayed. He made his way back to his cabin, whistling happily and thinking of Emily's sapphire blue eyes. He was turning the handle of his cabin door when he happened to glance down the hall and see someone sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He recognized the blue dress immediately as the one that Emily had been wearing that night.

"Emily?" he called, alarmed. When she did not look up, he hurried down the hall. As he reached her, he realized that one of the sleeves on her dress was dangling uselessly down her arm, and her face was streaked with tears. He also noticed that she was fast asleep, despite the fact that the floor must have been uncomfortable, being as hard and cold as it was. "What happened to ya?" he whispered as he bent down and picked her up gently. She sniffled slightly and shift in his arms so that she was facing into his chest. Tommy carried her tenderly down the hall to his cabin, opening the door with his elbow. He walked over to his bunk, which, thankfully, was on the bottom, and laid her in it, being careful not to hit her head on the ladder. He looked around helplessly for a bit; he had been thinking that he could have used one of his roommates' bunks, but the beds were all occupied. He thought for a moment, debating over what to do, before slipping into his bed, fully clothed, next to Emily.

He lay there for the next fifteen minutes, simply looking at his personal angel lying next to him. She was, he had decided at their first meeting, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. As she slept, he noted how innocent and vulnerable she looked, especially with her face as tear-stained as it was. He stroked her cheek gently, smiling as she rolled so that her face was snuggled against his chest. He lay his head down on his pillow and wrapped his arms protectively around the woman that he loved. As he fell asleep, he hummed a soft melody, noticing sleepily that Emily's mouth curved into a smile as she slept, as if she were hearing, in her dreams, the sweetest of lullabies.


	9. Waking With the Irish

_April 13th, 1912_

When Emily awoke, she did not know where she was, nor how she had gotten there. She was still fully clothed in the torn dress from the night before, but she was in a comfortable bed, even though she remembered falling asleep on the hard cold floor. She was facing a white metal wall, and, when she sat up quickly, she hit her head painfully on something solid.

"_Ow_!" she cried, clutching her head in both hands. Hearing a sleepy grunt from her other side, she turned her head quickly, whimpering as it spun dizzyingly. When her vision cleared, she saw Tommy laying next to her. "But how?" she marveled, reaching down to touch his cheek, making sure that she was not dreaming, though the pain from her head should have been indication enough. "Tommy?" she whispered. He simply grunted again and rolled over, throwing an arm over her waist in the process. She smiled down at him, reaching over to stroke his stubbled cheek tenderly. His eyes fluttered open at her touch, and he smiled up at her sleepily.

"Good morning, Love," he whispered. She smiled softly as he pushed himself up on his elbow and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Good morning," she murmured back. He pulled away from her face for just a moment to look into her eyes before lowering his head down to kiss her lips. She smiled against his mouth, and he smiled back. They pulled away sheepishly as they heard three separate whistles from Tommy's roommates. Emily blushed pretty and turned her head so that her hair covered her face.

"Ah, bugger off," Tommy grumbled good-naturedly, and his roommates all laughed before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. "Now, where were we?" Tommy placed a finger under Emily's chin, pulling her face towards his, and planted a sweet kiss on her waiting lips.

"Tommy?" she asked breathily.

"Yes Love?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Tommy grinned as he remembered their first conversation. "O' course," he smiled.

Emily hesitated for only a moment before rushing on. "I think I love you." Tommy did not answer at first, merely sitting and looking at her. Then, as she was about to lower her head in embarrassment, he captured her lips with his again.

"I think I love ya too," he whispered between kisses. Emily grinned, and then leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and twining her fingers in his hair. He responded by wrapping his big, strong arms around her tiny waist, pulling her even closer. Emily forgot all about the night before, as the man she loved held her close, kissing her fears away.

xXx

They spent the day together, strolling hand in hand around the ship. They mostly stayed outside, enjoying the view and each other's company. Emily felt that she had never been happier than she was with Tommy, his fingers entwined in her own. As they walked around the deck, Emily was pleased to find that she received no curious stares; the dress she had borrowed from the fiancée of Tommy's roommate did well to hide her supposed social status.

But still, even as she walked with Tommy, she could not banish the horrible memories of the early morning, and what had led her to be with Tommy.

"What's wrong love?" Tommy asked her in his beautiful Irish voice.

"I was just thinking," she answered softly, not looking at him.

"Were ya thinkin' 'bout las' night?" he inquired shrewdly.

"Yes," she whispered, feeling tears prick the edges of her eyes.

"Will ya tell me what happened?" The question was gentle, not demanding, allowing her to decline if she wished.

Emily hesitated a moment, turning her head to look into Tommy's fathomless eyes. "He was waiting for me," she began, "by the fireplace. He smelled of alcohol." She turned away, unable to hold Tommy's sympathetic gaze. "He asked me where I had been, and I told him I fell asleep in a deck chair. He knew that I was lying. He..." Emily shuddered to a stop.

"It's okay, Love," Tommy said kindly, stroking her face soothingly with a gentle thumb. "Nothing happened did it?" Emily shook her head, reaching up hastily to dash the tears from her eyes. "Sh," he whispered, gathering her small body to his large one, stroking and kissing her hair. "It's alright, Love. You're safe with me."

"I know," Emily whispered back, turning her head up to kiss him on the jaw. He turned his head and kissed her back on the lips. Emily sighed, feeling content despite her recent retelling of the horrible events of the night before.

xXx

"Emily, love, it's six o'clock. Aren't ya hungry?" Tommy's face was concerned and amused as he looked at the angel sitting in his lap on a deck chair, looking out at the ocean.

"Hm?" she asked distractedly.

"Are ya hungry?" he repeated, the concern lifting to be replaced fully with amusement.

"Oh, a bit," she replied absently, still not looking away from the water.

"Let's go, then." He stood up, picking her up by the waist so that he didn't dump her on the deck. At this movement, she seemed to come back to earth.

"I really am hungry," she said, this time sounding like she actually heard what she was saying. "Something about being surrounded by this beautiful blue water makes me ravenous."

"That ocean is exactly the color o' yer eyes," Tommy said, looking down into the eyes he had just complimented. Emily blushed prettily and looked down at her feet. "C'mon, Love," Tommy laughed, taking her small hand in his big one. "Let's go eat."

xXx

The atmosphere of the dining room was lighthearted and friendly, and Emily felt much more at home than she ever had in first class. Everyone accepted her like one of them, though most of them had only met her once.

When they had eaten their fill, Tommy and Emily exited the dining hall, unaware that a very hostile pair of eyes was watching them as they departed.


	10. Stories and Disasters

**A/N: I've sort of imagined the lullaby that Tommy hums as the one from Tuck Everlasting, the movie. You know, the one from Mae Tuck's music box. **

_April 14__th__, 1912_

Once again, Emily woke up in Tommy's warm embrace. As she lay in bed, studying his handsome face, she could not help but feel blessed to be with this man. She reached out to run her fingers through his curly hair, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile as Tommy's did the same, as if he were having a lovely dream. It was perhaps another quarter hour before Tommy woke, opening his hazel eyes to look at her.

He did not say anything, merely closing the gap between their lips.

"I love you," Emily whispered, feeling a thrill at how much she meant these three simple words.

"I love you too." These words sent more chills of pleasure dancing up and down her spine. Emily snuggled into Tommy's chest, and he began to hum a soft lullaby.

"My mum used to sing that to me, when I was small." Emily's voice was sad. "I wish I remember more of her."

"This is the lullaby me mam sang ta me, ta get me ta sleep," Tommy replied. He hummed a few more bars of the sweet song.

"Tell me about your family," Emily said curiously, pulling her head back to look at him.

Tommy chuckled softly, meeting her inquisitive sapphire eyes. "As you wish, love." His tone was teasing, but he knew that he would do anything that Emily wished. "I lived with me mam, dad, three older brothers, and three older sisters, in Limerick, Ireland. I'm the baby o' the family." He chuckled again. "Me older brothers all went to America, lookin' fer work. Me sisters, all but one, stayed in Ireland, though, ta marry."

"What are your siblings' names?" she asked, intrigued. Having never known her family, she was fascinated and enchanted by the thought of a large one.

"Me oldest brother, he's t'irty-t'ree, his name is Seamus. He's married to an American named Elizabeth, and they have a girl and a boy, Meg and Seamus Junior. The next brothers down are twins, Oliver an' Ethan, an' they're t'irty-one. Oliver married an American, too, and they have two boys, Ethan and Adam. The older Ethan hasn't married yet. Then there's me sister Margaret, named after mam, an' she's twenty-nine. She's married, o' course, and she's got three little boys, James, after dad, David, and Michael, and a little girl, Hannah." He looked over at Emily. "Are ya bored yet?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"No," she said honestly. "I've never had a family, so hearing about yours is like having my own.

His eyes were soft and speculative as he continued. "After Meg there's Sarah. She's twenty-seven, married, an' she's got two girls, Katie an' Emma. Me youngest older sister, Rachel, is twenty-five. She's married to a Scot, and she's the only sister that lives more than ten miles from mam and dad. Her kids are Tommy, Leah, and the twins, Aila and Anna."

"I would love to meet them someday," Emily said, a bit wistfully.

"I'd love ya ta meet them," Tommy replied, smiling softly. Emily smiled in return, and then sat up.

"I suppose we had better get out of bed if we want to do anything today."

Tommy agreed, and slipped out of bed. He dressed quickly while Emily averted her eyes, then Emily got up, and Tommy left the room respectfully, so that Emily could get dressed. She came out of the room a moment later, clothed in another borrowed dress. Even though the dress wasn't nearly as fancy as her first class gowns, she still looked stunning to Tommy.

"What would you like to do today Love?" Tommy asked as Emily slipped her hand into his.

"I don't know." She thought for a moment before a slow smile spread across her face. "You know what I would love to do?" The smile was very evident in her voice, and Tommy's heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

"What would ya love to do?" His voice was slightly strangled, but Emily didn't seem to notice.

"I would love to just sit with you on the deck, and talk all day." Tommy was slightly disappointed, but cheered greatly when he thought of spending the whole day with Emily.

"What would ya like to talk about?"

"About where you grew up, and more about your family."

"I'd love to hear more about you, as well." Tommy smiled again.

"There's nothing to tell," she protested. "You already where I grew up."

"I'm sure I'll think o' somethin'," he replied.

"Alright," she said, a bit dubiously. She led Tommy to a secluded spot, dragging a deck chair with her. Tommy sat down, and Emily plopped herself comfortably onto his lap. "Tell me about Limerick."

xXx

The day passed quickly, and soon it was dark outside. Emily had managed to keep Tommy talking, asking question after question, giggling at his stories. It wasn't until 11:30 that Emily remembered to ask a very important question.

"Tommy?" she began, her voice questioning. "How old are you?"

Tommy gave a short, startled laugh, realizing that they had never exchanged ages. "I'm twenty-two," he replied. "And you?"

She did the math quickly; relieved with the answer she came up with. "Eighteen. That's only four years difference."

"It wouldn't make any difference," Tommy whispered into Emily's hair.

"No," she agreed, burrowing into his shoulder. "It wouldn't make any difference at all.

They were still sitting in this position when, ten minutes later, they felt the ship give a great shudder.

"What was that?" Emily exclaimed, sitting up straight, listening. There was not a sound, and the shudder went away, but Emily couldn't help but feel that something was not right.

"I don't know," Tommy admitted, standing up after Emily had done the same. They walked to the railing, looking over it into the night. When they saw nothing, they walked around to the other side of the ship, an act that took a good fifteen minutes. They gasped in shock at what they saw there.

A large iceberg, gleaming whitely in the black night, was falling behind the ship. Judging by how close it still was to the side, Emily guessed that this iceberg was what had caused the jerking shudder.

"We've been hit," she whispered. "Do you think it damaged the ship?" Her voice was anxious.

"This ship is unsinkable," Tommy assured her. "Even if it did hit, it won't do anything."

Emily wished, more than anything, that she could believe him, but a gnawing doubt still lingered in her mind, refusing to leave despite his reassurances.

_April 15__th__, 1912, Midnight_

Tommy and Emily went back to his cabin, but they could not sleep, despite the fact that it was midnight, and they were both tired. At five after midnight, a knock came on the door. When Tommy opened it, they saw a steward standing on the other side, the reassuring look on his face not quite masking the panic in his brown eyes.

"Put your lifebelts on, please," the steward said, without preamble. He entered the room and opened the closet door, taking the lifebelts off of the top shelf and handing them to Emily and Tommy. He left quickly, moving on to the next room.

Emily stared down at the cork and canvas lifejacket in her hands, feeling numb. "The ship's sinking," she whispered. When she looked up at Tommy, there was a wild sort of desperation in her eyes. Tommy dropped his lifejacket to the floor, kneeling down next to it in front of Emily. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he waited until she met his eyes.

"Listen to me, Love," he said urgently, holding her gaze. "We may be sinkin'," he acknowledged reluctantly, "but I'll never let anything happen to ya, understand?" Emily nodded slowly, clinging to his words like the lifebelt in her hands. Tommy pulled her to his body, engulfing her in a hug so loving that Emily felt better immediately. "Now," he said, pulling back. "Get that lifebelt on." Emily obeyed, slipping into the lifejacket a bit reluctantly. Tommy helped her to tie it, and then shrugged into his own. As they stepped out into the hallway, a few rats ran past, their skinny tails up in the air. "This way," Tommy said, gesturing in the way the rats were running. "Wherever the rats are goin' is good enough fer me!" Tommy grabbed Emily's hand and pulled her along the hall.

The rats led them through the halls, but dead-ended at a closed gate, already crowded with people. There were two employees on the other side of the gate, making sure that no one went through.

"...back down the staircase," one of the employees was saying as Tommy and Emily joined the fray. Tommy pushed his way forward, pulling Emily with him.

"Let us through," he demanded, grabbing onto the bars with his free hand.

"Go back down the staircase like I told you," he guard said adamantly.

"Let us through!" Tommy yelled louder.

"Back dow-"

"The ship's bloody sinkin'!" Tommy shouted, rattling the bars of the gate angrily. "There's women an' children down 'ere!" The guard looked at Tommy, then glanced at Emily next to him, who was looking scared and desperate.

"Please," Emily whispered. The guard's icy façade melted, and he unlocked the gate. Tommy pushed Emily through, then, before he himself went, he helped several more women through. Unfortunately, not all of the men were that polite. Many of them surged forward, pushing past the guards, who were struggling to get back to the gate. The closed and locked it firmly, to prevent anyone else from getting through.

"Back!" one of the guards commanded. Emily rushed to the gate, twining her fingers with Tommy's through the bars. A flash of red over Tommy's shoulder caught Emily's eyes, and she turned to see Rose, along with Jack Dawson, pushing her way through the crowd.

"Rose!" Emily cried, pleased to see her friend.

"Emily?" Rose's voice was shocked. "Where have you been?"

"I'll explain later," Emily promised. "They're not letting anyone through." She turned her head to glare at the guards. Jack studied the gate for a moment, then tugged on Tommy's arm, pulling him down the stairs. Tommy let go of Emily's fingers reluctantly. Emily felt a momentary pang of sadness, which was quickly replaced by joy when she saw what they were doing.

Tommy, Jack, and Jack's friend Fabrizio had grabbed a bench, pulling it up out of the nails that held it to the floor. Rose cleared a path, wide enough so that the men could get the bench through. Emily back away from the gate, wincing slightly as the wood collided with the heavy metal. One more collision, and the gate was broken. The passengers piled out, and Emily searched frantically for Tommy. He found her, after a while, and took her hand in his again. Jack and Rose joined them then, and Emily quickly recounted the events of the night of the 12th up until that point. Rose, as was to be expected, was furious.

"If I could just see that pompous ass," she growled, "I would punch him in the face."

Emily laughed slightly, the sound feeling odd in her throat because of the situation. They had made it to the topmost deck by now, and began looking for space in a lifeboat. Cal found Rose during their search, so Tommy and Emily left to find seats for the two of them, plus Rose and Jack.

They searched for ten minutes before it became apparent that there were no lifeboats left.

"I hope Jack and Rose found one," Emily fretted. "What are we going to do?" The deck was beginning to tilt perceptibly beneath their feet, and Emily could feel tears prickling her eyes.

"I don't know, Love," Tommy answered quietly, putting a slight pressure on Emily's cold hands. The night was freezing, and Emily's teeth were chattering. "Here," Tommy took off his lifebelt, then his coat, and untied Emily's lifebelt from her waist. He slipped his coat over Emily's slim shoulders, then helped her back into her lifejacket before replacing his own. Over Tommy's shoulder, Emily saw something that caused her gasp in horror and clutch Tommy's sleeve. "What is it?" he asked with alarm.

"Edward!" she whispered frantically, still clutching his arm. Tommy growled deep in his throat, turning slowly to face the man who was now coming towards them.

Edward was walking purposefully towards them, a look of determination on his face.

"Emily," he greeted her when he reached them. Emily did not reply, merely looking at him in terror. "I know where you have been." The statement sounded slightly menacing.

"That's none o' yer business, is it?" Tommy's voice was low and dangerous, and Edward gave him a look of disdain.

"Of course it is my business," he said loftily. "This young lady is traveling with my mother and I, and it has been my duty to cover for her these past days." Turning to Emily, a sneer crossed his face, causing Emily to cower further into Tommy's back. "I've missed you, Em." His voice was leering. Edward reached out a hand, as if to pull Emily towards him, but he got no further. With such strength Emily had not known he possessed, Tommy punched Edward in the nose, causing bright red blood to stain his knuckles, and Edward's face. Edward's hands flew up to cover his broken nose, staring at Tommy in disbelief. Tommy was shaking with anger, but he took Emily gently by the arm and steered away, towards the stern of the ship, which was rapidly lifting higher and higher above the water.


	11. Saving Tommy Ryan

_April 15__th__, 1912, 2:10 a.m._

The stern was well above the water by now, and the lights were flickering. Tommy and Emily clung to the railing on the starboard side of the ship, unable to make it all the way to the stern. Tommy's left arm waswrapped firmly around Emily's waist, and his right was gripping the railing. Emily was still shocked over their meeting with Edward, but the shock was dull, buried under the worry and stress of the situation.

"Emily, the ship is goin' to go under." Tommy was speaking low, his voice deep and soothing to Emily's ears. "When it does, try and stay at the surface. If ya get pulled under, kick as hard as ya can to get up. Don't let go o' my hand."

_2:18 a.m._

Emily was crying openly now, the tears streaming down to stain her cheeks as she burrowed as close as she could to Tommy's shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice choking. "I love you."

"I love ya too," he whispered back, a fierce determination in his voice. "And I'll not let anythin' happen to ya, ya understand?"

Emily nodded stiffly, her teeth chattering with cold. The lights flickered once more, then went out, plunging them into darkness. The stern had risen further into the air, and Tommy and Emily were clutching the railing for dear life.

_2:19 a.m._

There was a great creaking, filling the air eerily. The sound seemed to originate from somewhere about twenty yards to Emily's left. The creaking was soon joined by a loud popping and cracking, as if the ship was straining herself. The cracking became louder, and, to Emily's horror, began to split down the middle. Tommy cursed under his breath, and did his best to shimmy both of them as far from the growing fissure as possible.

The crack continued to widen, until the ship seemed to be held together by a thread, before cracking completely in two. The stern of the ship went down, crashing onto the waves, and jarring Emily's chattering teeth. Emily let out a strangled cry, which turned quickly into a sob as she watched, eyes wide, as the bow of the ship sank beneath the water. Screams and cries filled the air, tearing into Emily's heart. The stern began to rise again, quicker this time, as it was unburdened by the heavy front end.

"Emily," Tommy's voice was urgent, and she clung to it like a life preserver. "Emily we've got ta jump off now."

"W-w-what?" Her teeth were chattering so violently that she could barely stammer out the word.

"We've got ta jump. She'll pull us down if we don'." Emily nodded shakily, prying her stiff fingers from the freezing metal railing. "Ya ready?" Emily nodded, though she knew she was not. Of course, can one ever be ready for something like that? "Jump!" Tommy launched the both of them off of the railing, and they fell the several yards to the ocean, landing with a splash into the freezing water.

_2:20 a.m._

Emily's first instinct, upon coming into contact with the frigid water, was to draw in a deep, ragged breath. She closed her mouth and nose quickly, however, when her head was swallowed by the waves. Emily kicked as hard as she could, panicking when she felt Tommy's arm slide from her waist. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped and sputtered, trying in vain to draw a significant amount of air into her frozen lungs. She searched frantically, treading water in circles, the screams, cries, and pleading of the passengers filling her ears. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned as quickly as the water and her stiff muscles would allow her, feeling a surge of relief when she saw that it was Tommy.

"We've g-g-got ta s-swim aw-w-way," he stammered, his teeth clacking together. Emily nodded, and Tommy grabbed her wrist, helping her to swim away from the sinking ship. The screams intensified, and Emily glanced behind her just in time to see the stern of the ship, which was now sticking straight up in the air, begin to sink lower and lower in the water. "K-k-keep swimmi-ing," Tommy instructed, and Emily obeyed, turning back around.

As they swam, Emily could not help but pick out faces among the terrified people. There was Anna O'Malley, the kind Irish woman that Emily had sat next to at dinner, looking completely terrifies; there was Meredith Blake, the young lady whose dress Emily was wearing, tears streaming down her face as she held the frozen body of her younger sister in her arms; there was Alec Galt, Tommy's roommate, floating face up in the ocean, his eyes glazed over in death. Emily could feel the tears that fell from her eyes quickly freeze on her cheeks, and she knew that her hair was frozen as well.

"Tommy," she whispered, her voice small and fading. "T-Tommy, I c-c-can't d-do it." Tommy stopped swimming and turned to face her.

"D-don't ya d-d-dare give u-up," he said fiercely. He grabbed her face in both of his hands and kissed her on the lips. Although normally a kiss such as this would have warmed Emily to the very tips of her toes, it did nothing against the brutal cold this time. Tommy turned around again, and swam them out to a less crowded space. They tread water for what seemed like eternity, listening to the screams gradually growing dimmer.

_4:10 a.m._

It seemed to Emily that she would never be warm again. Tommy had found them a headboard to rest on, and both of them were now mostly out of the water, but they could not escape the cold that permeated their very bones.

"S-s-stay awake, L-l-love," Tommy whispered, sensing that she was drifting to sleep.

"B-b-but I'm so...so t-tired." Her lips were blue with cold, and she had difficulty talking.

"I kn-now, E-Emil-ly, b-but you m-must stay aw-wake. F-for m-me." Emily nodded shakily, prying her frozen eyelids open.

By now, all of the screams had died, leaving the night air eerily still. Emily had long since resigned herself to death, but she clung to the edges of life for Tommy's sake.

_4:15 a.m._

The light shined bright through Emily's closed eyelids, and she winced away from it instinctively. She opened her eyes only when she felt Tommy frantically shaking her by the shoulder.

"Emily," he was pleading desperately. "Emily, p-please w-wake up. There's a l-lifeboat, L-love. Th-they're c-comin' ta g-get u-us." Emily opened her eyes slowly to see Tommy frantically waving his arm in the air. He was silhouetted briefly as the light, which she now figured out was coming from a flashlight, passed over him. There was a distant shout, and a soft lapping of water, and Tommy looked down at her again. "H-here th-they come, Em." His voice was soft and relieved when he saw her eyes were open.

The lifeboat reached them a good five minutes later, and the men aboard helped them in. Blankets were quickly thrown around Emily's shoulders, but it did nothing against the bitter, biting cold that had permanently lodged itself in her body. Emily sank against Tommy's side, and he wrapped his arms around her blanket-clad shoulders, pulling her tight against his body.

"I thought I had lost you," he whispered.

"I l-l-love you," she murmured back.

"I love ya too. I don' know what I would've done had ya...had ya..." he was unable to finish, but Emily knew what he was trying to say.

"I love you," she whispered one more time, before falling asleep as Tommy hummed their lullaby gently in her ear.

_8:20 a.m._

"Emily, wake up." Tommy was shaking her again, but this time, his voice was more excited than panicked. "There's a ship, Em. It's come to get us." Emily stirred and opened her eyes sleepily. Above them loomed a grey, metal hull of a ship, the word R.M.S Carpathia stenciled there. People were leaning over the railing to point down at them, and, soon, a white ladder was lowered down. Two of the four officers on the lifeboat clambered up the ladder, while one of them helped Tommy get Emily up. When Emily set foot on the stable deck of the ship, she was immediately accosted by two elderly women bearing blankets and steaming cups of coffee.

"There you are dear." The woman's voice was kind as she wrapped Emily in the warm woolen blankets and placed a cup of coffee in her hands. The woman tried to pull Emily away from the railing, but Emily protested, not wanting to be parted from Tommy. Tommy gently wrapped his arm around Emily's shoulders, giving the elderly woman a grateful smile. The woman nodded knowing, then turned and walked away. Emily took a sip of her coffee, shivering as the warmth of it seared her frozen throat.

"Are ya all right?" Tommy's voice was concerned as he led Emily to a nearby deck chair.

"Yes," Emily whispered. Tommy sat down, then pulled Emily gently down onto his lap. She snuggled into his chest, and once again fell asleep to the soothing sound of their lullaby.

_Thursday, April 18__th__, 1912. 9:45_

"We're hear Love." Tommy's voice was whispered very close to her ear. She nodded, sinking into his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I can't believe we made it." She knew that they were lucky to be alive, and the shock of their close encounter with death had yet to wear. Emily was sure that she would never forget it, even if she lived to be a thousand. "What are we going to do, Tommy?" Her voice carried a note of desperation to it.

"We'll figure somethin' out, Love." Emily turned her eyes to New York harbor, which was quickly approaching. As she watched New York draw closer, she could not help but think over the events that had happened since they had boarded Carpathia.

_Shortly after they were rescued, Emily and Tommy were sitting on deck, looking out at the sea. Emily turned her head a fraction of an inch to look at a movement that she detected out of the corner of her eye. It was Edward, walking along the deck with Madam Mason. Emily watched them surreptitiously, making no move to either avoid or confront them. As they passed the chair that Emily and Tommy were sitting on, Edward happened to glance over in their direction. His eyes widened infinitesimally, but he made no other indication that he had seen them at all. Emily was pleased to note that his nose was crooked._

_Two days after their rescue, Emily was reunited with Rose. The young woman had lost some of her spark, but she still greeted Emily with enthusiasm. When Emily had asked after Jack, Rose had broken down into tears, recounting the whole tragic tale while Emily held her, stroking her hair and trying her best to reassure the older girl that it was going to be alright. She could not help but shudder at how close she had come to losing that man that _she _loved._

The ship docked with not even the tiniest bump. Emily and Tommy walked down the ramp that led to the pier, pushing their way through waves of reporters. When they had made it to the other side, Tommy and Emily wandered, hand in hand, through the streets of New York.

"Tommy?" Emily asked quietly. Everything she had said in the last three days had been quiet. "Can we go to Central Park? I read about it when I found out I was going to New York, and it sounds lovely."

"O' course," Tommy agreed, and they made their way through the confusing maze of streets, coming out, finally, in Central Park. It was like a whole other world, an oasis of green in the hustle and bustle of the busy city. Emily and Tommy walked around the length of the Park, going slowly, enjoying the scenery. "Emily?" Tommy asked as they sat down on a park bench near the man-made lake. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Of course." Tommy smiled, then, to Emily's surprise, slid off the bench to kneel on one knee on the ground. "Emily," he began, and she caught her breath at the obvious love written on his handsome, rugged face. "I know that we only met a week ago, but I feel like I've known ya all me life. I can' see meself with anybody bu' you." He took both of her hands in both of his, looking up into her face earnestly. "Emily, will ya marry me?"

Emily could feel tears gather in her eyes as she nodded, smiling for the first time in days. "Yes," she whispered, drawing him up from his knees to meet his lips.

"Ya mean it?" His eyes were hopeful as he drew back. Emily laughed, and Tommy thrilled at the lovely sound. Emily nodded once more, and Tommy, grinning from ear to ear, caught her up by the waist, stood up, and spun around. Emily laughed again, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

"I love you Tommy Ryan."


	12. Epilogue Nine Years Later

The small house was crowded, overflowing out into the garden, but it was so full of love and warmth that none of its occupants seemed to mind. Several small children ran giggling through the door, bursting past a small woman, who simply laughed at their play.

"Slow down!" she called after them cheerfully. The children, of course, paid her no heed as they ran about on the green grass, playing a spirited game of tag. Emily laughed once more, turning back into the kitchen. "Mum, is the bread done yet?"

The elderly woman standing by the stove opened the door, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam.

"Quite nearly, darlin'. You just go lay down, an' I'll call ya when it's finished." Emily nodded, placing a protective hand on her abdomen as she walked with an ungainly stride into the living room. She paused for a moment to look out the large picture window, enjoying the view of the rolling Irish countryside. She started slightly as an arm wrapped around her waist, but she smiled angelically when she saw who the arm belonged to.

"How are ya, Love?" Even after all these years, Tommy's voice still sent shivers of pleasure up her spine.

"Mm, I'm good," she breathed, sinking into his embrace. Tommy placed his hand gently, lovingly, on Emily stomach, smiling as he felt the baby kick. Emily laughed at the goofy expression of fatherly pride on her husband's face.

"Lunch is ready!" The call came from the kitchen, loud enough to be heard by the occupants of the house, and those outside.

"We're comin', Mam!" Tommy called, kissing Emily's hair once more before releasing her waist to take her hand, pulling her outside. A long table was set up in the garden, laden down with food and surrounded by family. All of Tommy's siblings, and their many children, along with Tommy's parents, were gathered at Tommy and Emily's house for a very special occasion. Emily and Tommy stopped at two empty seats beside a small, red-headed little girl.

"Mammy, can I open me presents yet?" Her child's voice was excited, and Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"Not yet, Mer. Let's wait until after lunch." Meredith's face fell, but perked up as her grandmother brought out her favorite dish, apple cinnamon bread, topped with steaming bits of apple. Meredith clapped her tiny hands in delight. Emily laughed again and ruffled her red curls.

After the food had been consumed, Meredith tugged on her mother's sleeve urgently. "Mammy, mammy, can I opened me presents _now_?"

"Now you may open you presents." Meredith face split into a huge gap-toothed grin and she dug into her small pile of presents with more gusto than she had with her food.

Soon all of the presents were opened, and Meredith sat surrounded by a penny whistle, several new dresses, a doll, and a tricycle. She grabbed up her doll, and her cousins, and left the table in a flurry of small bodies. Tommy's mum, dad, and siblings cleared the table good-naturedly, ignoring Emily's protests to let her help.

"Oh good lord," she muttered under her breath. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"We're just tryin' ta give ya a break, Love," Tommy laughed. "Ya work too hard." Emily's annoyance melted under Tommy's smile, and she smiled in return, turning instead to watch the children play. There was a commotion near the door of the house, and Emily turned sharply to see two small boys scuffling around on the ground.

"Owen!" she called, "Tommy! Play nice!"

"Yes mammy." The two brothers stopped their wrestling and stood up, looking up at their mother with such innocent expressions on their faces that Emily laughed, holding out her arms. The boys walked into her embrace reluctantly, squirming to get away. Emily laughed one more time before releasing them, and they ran off, relieved, to play with their numerous cousins.

xXx

That night at bedtime, when all of their family had left, Tommy and Emily tucked their children into bed.

"Mammy," Meredith said as Emily pulled the covers up to her little chin. "Tell me a story."

"What story would you like to hear, love?"

"Tell me about New York."

"Oh love, you've heard that story so many times. Aren't you tired of it?"

Meredith shook her head, her little three-year-old face serious. Emily laughed and began to tell Meredith all about New York; about the markets and stores, about the nice lady that lived next door, and especially about Central Park. Meredith loved to hear about Central Park.

Half way through her story, Emily looked down at the bed, not at all surprised to see that Meredith had fallen to sleep. Laughing slightly, she leaned down to kiss her daughter on the forehead. "Good night, baby. I love you." She left the room, closing the door so that it was only open a crack. She peeked into the boys' room, smiling when she saw that both of them were fast asleep. Making her way out into the living room, she sat down on the sofa, resting her weary feet. Tommy came into the room about five minutes later and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her expanded waist.

"How was your day, Love?" he whispered.

"Busy," she chuckled. "I can't believe that Meredith is three already." The smile faded, to be replaced by a look of faint melancholy. "Little Tommy's going to start school this fall. And Owen is nearly seven." She sighed heavily, wondering why children had to grow up so fast. "Where have the years gone, Tommy?"

"I don' know, Love, but I've enjoyed every one of them." Emily smiled into Tommy's chest.

"Tommy?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"And I love you," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. He hummed a few bars of a soft song, and Emily recognized their lullaby immediately. She smiled, sinking further into his chest, then into sleep, the notes of the lullaby weaving in and out her dreams.

**A/N: Thank you so much to all my readers! I've had 1,257 reads, and 35 reviews! Thank you!! I don't think I could have done it without all your support and input!**


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